Serpent
by UnholyHelbig
Summary: Beca Mitchell is the local bad girl who shows up to Atum Boarding school. It's a stone clad place in the middle of nowhere. She's given the option of staying there, No other options given to her. She chooses the school but soon comes in contact with the dark secrets in the corridors.
1. Chapter 1

**Her breath pushed** past her lips in sudden spurts, chest burning with a thick and undeniable pain as the rubber soles of her boots made slapping sounds against the pavement. Beca's mouth was dry, her throat burning as she struggled to control her breathing with a thick edge.

Muddy water splashed up on her jeans, the dirt keeping the rough denim adhered to her ankles. The weather was chilling, chilling enough to bite at her nose as the mercy of the cold tore into her skin.

She panted, pressing her back roughly against the brick wall as she clenched the paint can in her grasp. It was cold, the scent of the red marking she had chosen to brand the inside of a construction zone with kept a strong stench. Her stance wavered as she winced.

The cut that ran across the inside of her thigh was enough to get the girl seeing spots. She hadn't noticed the syrupy liquid rushing down her leg until a few moments ago when she willed herself to stop, trying desperately to catch her breath.

The small girls fear sparked back up as a rough voice shouted over the sound of passing traffic. The alleyway was partly blocked, she considered her options as she shoved herself away from the brick and mortar, her palms scraped and stinging. Beca took off as fast as she could on a damaged leg, rushing towards the junkyard across town, knowing that the limits would break eventually.

Her shoulder shoved roughly against another person, breath escaping from her lungs as she let out a rough grunt, eyes meeting with the unforbidden ones of an officer. Her stomach dropped, mouth dry as she stumbled back towards the little opening that she had chosen to rest in.

"Stop right there!" The man finally found his words, reaching for his belt. Beca clenched her jaw, the last thing she needed was a man pointing a weapon towards her in the middle of a busy city street. A slight crowd beginning to form. "Put your hands up!"

She swallowed roughly, the slight resemblance of a smirk on her lips as she rose her hands slightly. "What, you're going to shoot me because of a little graffiti?"

He was stoic.

"Put your hands up!"

She shook her head, knowing this was it for her. The girl had been detained more than once, car theft being the most recent charge that made a way onto her record. Her father had mentioned something about channeling her angst into her art- but part of her knew she took it too literally.

Beca let out a slight sigh as she loosened her hold on the can, the officer adjusting his position, watching her carefully. It clattered to the sidewalk, knowing that nothing would really happen. She had knocked the cans off of counters countless times. They never did anything but make a loud and obnoxious noise.

The man's force was strong, fingers fighting past the fabric of the girl as her cheek scratched against the wall. She breathed in the earthy scent, closing her eyes as the metal cuffs pinched against her wrists. There was no reason to struggle or fight against the police officer, her breath wavering as she clenched her eyes shut, knowing that her little artistic spree wasn't worth it.

"You have the right to remain silent." The man with stormy eyes struggled to talk past his cotton scarf. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney."

The girl let out a thick sigh, not bothering to listen to the rest of his speech. She had it memorized anyway.

 **"Rebecca Mitchell."** The man's voice echoed throughout the hospital room, a thick scent of antiseptic filling the lawyer's nose as he walked through the emergency room. The girl's chest tightened with anxiety as she pressed herself closer to the headboard in the small area.

Her fingers were numb, hand chained to the metal bumpers that rested on the sides of the blue plush gurney. Her mouth tasted like cotton, let throbbing roughly as she tried to avert her eyes from the security guys stare. They were brown, muddy like the puddles that she had dredged through on her little chase.

Beca needed stitches, her pants ripped against the edge of thigh as the rustic stitching hardened and crusted over. She had bled a lot, jaw clenched as she waited for the little floral curtain to whip back to reveal her steamed father. He was loud, talking to the nurse in a muffled voice.

"That your dad?"

"Hmm?" Beca knit her eyebrows together as she looked towards the man who had a folded magazine on his lap. It was sports illustrated, the girls were barely dressed, and something told the young girl that his infatuation had nothing to do with the compelling political pieces.

"You're in for it." The man let out a sigh, adjusting his position.

"I know." She did. Her voice a deep growl as she watched the curtain carefully. She knew it was coming but still jumped when the edge scrapped roughly against the metal pole. She drew in a breath.

Dr. Mitchell stared her way, not taking his unforgiving gaze off of his nervous daughter. Her mouth was dry and painful as she swallowed roughly, knowing whatever words came out of her mouth wouldn't change the situation at hand.

"I'll uh-"The man took a step away from the situation, hooking his hand on his black leather belt. "I'll give you some space."

"That would be best." The older man hissed under his breath.

His stance was strong, a tweed jacket hugging his sides. Beca could tell that he had rushed from work, something she never wanted to happen. He cared about his jobs, about his law classes and his theories that he would preach until his face turned blue. A low 5 O'clock shadow graced his jawline as his milky eyes hardened.

"Hi, dad." The girl squeaked out.

He sighed roughly, "How's your leg?"

The question shocked the girl. She wanted him to yell, in a way. This eerie calmness was more disturbing than if he had screeched at her. She was craving some type of reaction other than this one right here. Other than the disappointment.

"They said I'll be fine. The cut wasn't that deep."

"That's good." He swallowed, pushing the little black rolling chair towards his daughter as he lowered himself into the seat. He groaned at the sudden dip in posture as Beca stared at him with so much caution. "We need to talk."

"Talk, or argue?" She whispered, ducking her head. It was something out of shame, or maybe even fear. Either way, her stomach churned as she used her free hand to mess with the hem of her shirt.

"Both," Dr. Mitchell laughed, "Beca, I realize that you feel the need to act out… but I have spent so much time and energy trying to be the good guy here. I can't keep striking your offenses like this."

"I know,"

 _"Do you?"_

She did. Her anger was boiling behind the fear that drove her. Everything about her father made her angry. She didn't want to move in with him, not after what he did to her mother. She knew the two of them weren't happy, but that didn't' give him the right to crowd her into a house with his new wife, the very wife that put the evil in the stereotype of stepmom.

"There is a point when acting out isn't acceptable anymore, and I think that this is it, Rebecca. No more."

"What does that mean?" She asked voice strained.

"It means you're leaving."

Her expression perked up momentarily. Part of her goal when she started this nonsense at the beginning of the summer had everything to do with getting in enough trouble to head back to her mom's house in Virginia. She knew the woman had her own life, but she missed her- missed the freedom that came with the nights spent there while she worked in a mountain shop, learning survival all while trying to give everyone a good deal on canoes.

"You're not going back to your mother." He let out a thick sigh, "The two of us have been talking, and we think that Public School is a little bit too much for you."

"I'm sorry?" Beca asked, lifting her eyebrow.

"Boarding school, Beca." He stood, shaking his head as he stared at the handcuffs around his daughter's wrist, linking her to the bed. "You're going to boarding school."

 **[A/N:** A little boring, I know, but I had to give you guys some backstory! **]**


	2. Chapter 2

**His breathing was** hot against her throat, ragged as it pushed past his lips in an uneven mess. Chloe could tell the boy hadn't brushed his teeth this morning, settling for a piece of discount gum instead of the toothpaste that he so desperately needed to cover the cold pizza he had for breakfast.

The red-head fought the urge to cringe away from the scent, instead her stoic features kept deep and settled with anger. Even with the contorted expression, she was gorgeous, her mane flowing over stone clad shoulders that emitted nothing but confidence. Her eyes a deep steely blue that could stop a deer right in front of disorienting headlights.

Max was that deer.

The fabric of his shirt bunched over her touch as her knee rested right beside his, spreading his legs apart as the limestone felt cool through her jeans. Chloe didn't want to admit it, but Max looked cute in a helpless type of way.

"I'm sorry, Chloe" He squeaked out, voice just propelling that rancid smell her way. This time she let out a rapid growl, one that was so deep that it rushed past her chest, making the freshmen cower even more.

"I thought we had a good thing going, yeah?" She pulled him closer to her, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching even more. "You got Jessica's number and I got the answers to the physic's test."

"That's cheating," Max stuttered as she shoved him harder against the wall. "I know your dad is the Dean, but he won't be so forgiving with me. You have to understand, Cheating could get me expelled-"

"Shh," Chloe soothed, placing her finger delicately on the boy's lips, his breath catching in his throat as he let out a small whimper. "You got fucked, didn't you?"

"J-Jessica is a nice girl." He struggled "I didn't… I wouldn't. Not on the first date."

A pensive look crossed her stare. The girl had gone on and on about how much fun she had with Max, even with the threats, she knew she would never deprive her friend of that.

The ginger laughed, it was a bitter, yet delicate and airy sound. A few students walking by without saying anything. They averted their eyes, not taking much notice of Chloe's behavior unless it was directed to them.

The whole school was like that. Almost pretentious in a way- with it's pressed clad uniforms with crests ironed onto the breast. Chloe's own button down was halfway untucked, the light blue fabric contrasting nicely with her icy gaze.

"Mm," She purred "I didn't really register you as a guy with such airtight morals, Maxie."

He shuddered at her touch. Chloe could feel the fear radiating off of him, it almost drove her to push herself closer and whisper in his ear. The intimidation factor something the girl didn't use much. She didn't have a need to. She was used to getting what she wanted- whether that was handed to her or now was up to her latest victim.

A cooling hand on her shoulder made the girl tense up. Part of her angered by the interruption while the scent of laundry detergent and orange graced her senses. It was a well-deserved break from the overwhelming scent the boy under her grasp emitted.

"Chloe," the stranger soothed "Play nice and let the poor boy go to class."

She contemplated her options for a few seconds. Max's muddy stare darted quickly between Chloe and the girl that stood a few inches behind her. She could feel warmth engulf her due to the close contact of her friend. If it were anyone else, she would have objected.

"Fine," She cocked her head to the side as she shoved him away, his books and papers scattering against the ground as he mumbled a thank you. The girl wasn't quite sure where it was directed, but she watched him carefully as he stumbled away from the two women. "Have a good day, Max!"

"That was cruel, Chloe Beale and you know it."

Chloe turned around, cocking a brow as the got a good look at her friend. Aubrey was the type of girl that could give you a stare to warrant death. Her eyes close to being the color of a frightened ghost. She always wore a bold red lip to compliment a scowl that crossed her fair features. The deep blue tie that Chloe had opted against today stood out against everything else in her cooled off style.

"Oh please," She laughed, "You've done worse."

"I know," She pouted, sticking her bottom lip as she took a step forward, pulling them from the cool shade of the building's exposed hallways and into the sunny patch that the quad had to offer. The whole school was built like a prison, large stone walls reminding the girls of a Greek nightmare, some type of fever dream that Julius Ceaser had. "But Maxie is kinda cute."

"Don't get soft on me Posen," The girl pointed out, shaking her head as she hugged her biology book closer to her chest. The red binding was a good contrast from the rest of the area. "I need you as mean as ever."

"You doubt me?" She scoffed, eyes darting towards the other end of the courtyard where the rest of their posse rested- lazing around before the bell rang and put a stop to every single conversation that was taking place.

Stacie had herself pressed lightly against one of the stone columns, the sun in her eyes as she squinted, gaze drifting to a certain blonde somebody every few seconds. Chloe pretended not to notice, her friend clearly too oblivious to catch on herself.

"of course not," She tutted, "I'm just saying. Stacie isn't as vulnerable as she used to be. You don't have to cradle her anymore."

"I was not cradling her." That familiar hiss filled Chloe's ears as she smirked.

"She can handle herself," The ginger held up her hands in defense, that playful gaze still on her brunette friend.

Aubrey let out a small grumble, shaking her head. She wasn't the nurturing type, but for some reason, when the freshman started to walk the halls last fall, the girl softened to the point of begging her counterpart to just consider Stacie for something more, something that neither girl had ever mentioned on anything but paper.

Chloe had eventually relented, knowing that her blonde friend was good on her word. It turned out to be the right choice, the girl easily balancing out against the quiet and mysterious Lily. Someone that Chloe had to drag answers from on a daily basis until just recently. The junior was something else, taking the phrase "Deathly stare" to a whole new level.

"Yeah, because of my expert guidance." She grinned, earning the shake of the head as her friends face began to falter, "You have to see Warren today?"

"Yeah," Chloe let out a shaky sigh. That man was the only person who was big enough to strike fear into the girl, her stomach churning at the thought of staring into those beady little eyes. "He wants me to show the new girls around."

"New girls?" Aubrey chewed her bottom lip apprehensively as they continued their slow pace. "I thought you only had to give Legacy the grand tour?"

"I thought so too," She cocked her head to the side, trying to scan her memory for any clues to who the other girl could be. Her father wasn't very reluctant when it came to this type of thing, her lips parting slightly in confusion as she thought.

"Well, Chlo" Aubrey wrapped her arm expertly around the girl's shoulders. "I'm sure you'll give her a great first experience at Atum."

 **[A/N: Wow? So, thoughts? obviously, Chloe isn't the softest of the Bella's anymore. Maybe a little evil? Who knows!]**


	3. Chapter 3

**His office was** a mix between a library and a hidden bar. Warren Beale was not the type of man to hide his whiskey, even though he could hold it well. The man was in charge of a boarding school for children who lost their way. No one faulted him for keeping a bit of the hard stuff.

Rich mahogany shelves were lined with different history books and editions of encyclopedias. They were never cracked open, still having that new book scent even though most of his office was that of ginger.

The walls were painted in a thick green layer of paint, bringing a dark and woodsy feel to the large room. He had a green plated desk lamp that brought an odd yellowed haze to the area.

Emily Junk was sitting in the pristine leather seat. Her back was straight, and eyes focused as a crooked smile graced her lips. She was excited, happy to be in a place like this. It wasn't like the other kids, this wasn't forced on her, it was something she wanted. Something her parents had been talking about for years.

Beca, on the other hand, was slumped against her chair, eyes staring skeptically at the excited little pledge next to her. It was amusing, in a way, the girl close to bouncing up and down while a brooding man apologized once more for his daughter's lateness.

The door creaked open, Chloe pulling in a sharp breath as her deep gaze met that angered one of her fathers. This time, she had tried desperately not to be late. She was close to winded, fingers cold as she pulled at the collar of her shirt. He faked a smile, not wanting to make a fuss in front of his guests.

He was a clean-cut man with a shaven face and styled salt and pepper hair. The suit that he wore was pressed nicely, a patch that bore the school's serpent crest was ironed on. His deep grey eyes reminded Chloe of a fox, but she knew it wasn't as simple as that.

"Sorry, I'm late." She beamed, scratching the back of her neck softly as the dark ink that pressed against the inside of her forearm peaked away from the fabric. She didn't' bother hiding it, instead, she dropped her arm at the raised eyebrows from her father. "I suppose you won't take traffic as an excuse?"

He laughed forcibly as Chloe caught the stare from both of the younger girls in front of her. One had a deep smile on her face, the other a sneer. An interesting one that made the ginger lift her head up with slight interest. She said nothing, though.

"Emily, Beca" Warren spoke, his voice a low and soothing growl. Chloe used to imagine his alternate career being an audiobook actor. "This is my daughter, Chloe. Consider her your welcome committee."

"That's right," She girl said, faking her way through her monologue. "I can tell you anything and everything about this amazing place. All you have to do is ask!"

The forced aspect of it all left a sour taste in Chloe's mouth. She certainly wasn't one to put on a show- especially not for this Beca girl. She was moody, one of the people forced into entering the academy just because of behavioral issues. Her whole entire demeanor gave off an unwanted vibe. She even scoffed as the words left Chloe's mouth, but the red-head bit her tongue, deciding to focus her attention on the peppier of the two.

"Chloe," Warren cleared his throat authoritatively, "Would you mind reciting the key principle that we live by here at Atum."

She darted her eyes towards her father, the man giving her an encouraging nod of the head. She hated this phrase more than anything. The acidity of her words making her breath quiver unforgivingly. "Disciplina illius key ut firma future"

The girl let the Latin roll off her tongue effortlessly, cocking her head to the side as Beca lifted her eyebrows in curiosity. It was a dead language. One used by historians and maybe even the occasional Wiccan.

"Discipline makes for a strict future." She cleared the air with a rocky translation.

"Exactly, girls." The suited man drew attention back to his corner of the room. His daughter clearly lacking the comfort, but not short on a thick edge. "There is no three-strike system here. If you're caught doing something that is clearly against the rules, then I can't speak for what happens next, and neither can my daughter."

The warning was curt and ominous. Something that made Beca breathe in softly, her gaze still low as she focused more on the girl dressed in a cotton button-down. She had it rolled up to her sleeves, a tie around her neck where she clearly fastened it only moments ago- lazily, but rushed.

A happy smile cut across the room as Warren made it clear that whatever he just uttered was not to be repeated. The mood changed almost instantly, Chloe let out a sigh of relief as he squeezed her shoulder lightly with his cold grasp. "I hope you two love it here as much as we do."

 **Chloe shoved her** hands in her pockets, trying to regain some type of feeling in her fingertips. Anxiety still pressed deeply against the inside of her mind as her boots made an odd sound against the corridor.

All three girls walked without purpose. Beca and Emily following silently behind their tour guide as she became lost in her own malevolent thoughts. She hated her father, hated him more than anything.

After her mother died he got a cynical edge to him. One that he applied to every aspect of the school once he became the Dean. His control over her was looming, and he reminded her of it every single day.

"He was kind of creepy, yeah?" Emily whispered softly to the girl on her right.

"Hmm?" Beca knit her eyebrows together, admittedly not hearing the girl. She was paying more attention to the red-headed vixen that stalked in front of them. "Yes. Yeah, he is."

Emily nodded thoughtfully, biting the inside of her lip. "He reminds me of an eel."

"I was thinking snake, but that works too."

Chloe stopped suddenly, having heard most, if not all, of the girl's hushed whispers. The shorter girl let out a soft grunt as her stomach came in contact with the red-head. A soft ache moved past her skin as she stumbled back, not sure why the girl halted. Emily gulped.

"A snake?" The girl turned to face the two. She had her hand placed on her hip. Beca wasn't one to be intimidated lightly, but the way the woman held her stance was enough to make most of the color drain from her features. Both girls were searching for an explanation of how their tour guide could hear them so clearly.

"That's oddly accurate." She cracked a smile. "He does have those eyes."

"I-uh," Emily stammered.

"That means you have to stay on his good side, yeah?" She tilted her head. "It would be best for all of us."

"He's hard on you, then?" Beca asked, having picked up on the signals that she was emitting in the office.

"He's hard on all of us, Beca." She ran a hand lazily through her hair. "So if you want to do something against the rules, make sure it's not where he can see it."

They stared at her with little conviction as she winked and turned on her heel, She continued to walk towards the inside of the school where the dorms were. They were smaller the younger you were, her path heading towards Emily's room.

"The freshmen dorms are this way," She said, not waiting for the girls to follow. They shared an apprehensive look before they eventually picked up the pace. Beca winched against the sharp pain that ripped through her thigh. Part of her knew that the ache would dull eventually, but the bandaged wrapped around her wasn't noticeable enough through her jeans to be concerned.

Chloe could pick up on the wounded girl, her eyebrows knitting together as the scent of blood filled her lungs. It was metallic and distinguishable. Not like anything she had really noticed before. It cut across the room like a wrecking ball on a warpath.

She cleared her throat as she fished in her pocket for the keys that lead to Emily's room. The door in front of her was thick mahogany against an otherwise cool and dark hallway. The number "008" Was carved into the wood and embossed in gold. It wasn't like any boarding house that they had seen, but the school was shrouded in its own form of mystery.

Chloe pushed open the door, the scent of cinnamon burning the girl's lungs. The room was fairly small, two standard four post twin beds were parallel to each other- a deep green bedspread on both. A small window carved into stone gave the area some form of light, but not much. Two desks rested right by the end of each bed.

A girl with soft green eyes glanced up from her computer, her headphones quickly being pulled down as she sat herself up. She didn't notice the door opening, but he breath caught the second she saw the senior with two new recruits. The blonde's mouth was dry as she lifted her eyebrows.

"Chloe," She stuttered out, "I'm sorry this place is such a mess… I wasn't expecting anyone-"

The girl held her hand up, halting the woman's rushed speech. Beca cocked her head to the side at how fearful the stranger seemed at the very presence of the red-head. "It's fine, Jess. This is your new roommate, Emily."

The girl let out a soft breath as she stood, fingers shaking noticeably as she outstretched them towards the girl. Emily retained her friendly demeanor as she grasped the girl's palm. "It's nice to meet you."

"Treat her like family. "Chloe spoke, eyes drifting towards Jessica. "And do me a favor, give Max another call."

She nodded, swallowing roughly as she did. A quick heat rose to her cheeks as she stifled a smile. She liked Max too. Despite Chloe having cruel natures about her, she didn't want her girls to be unhappy.

"Will do," She squeaked out, giving Chloe a light nod before the girl turned and started to walk out of the room and back into the hallway. Beca held her breath as Chloe grasped her fingers and dragged her along. She couldn't help but notice how chilling they were.

"Your room is next to mine," Chloe spoke with confidence. "If that's okay with you."

"It's fine," Beca mumbled, knowing that she didn't have much choice in the matter.

 **[A/N: Let me now what you guys think! I honestly don't know if you guys will like where I take this story, and it makes me a bit nervous!]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Beca Mitchell was** a nuisance. That's what Chloe Beale decided After having five minutes to walk across the campus with her. The badass attitude was doing nothing for the red-head except convincing her that the weird feeling her stomach was in fact, hatred.

It hit her like a rock to the abdomen, her fingers still chilled from the conversation with her father. Beca watched the woman carefully; the way she walked with such conviction and confidence. It was alluring, but terrifying in its own rights.

The campus wasn't like anything she had seen before. It was all limestone, the lockers a deep blue that was exposed to the outside air. It was almost like a courthouse without the overzealous roof and crazy designs on the ceiling. Beca was sure there were a few Greek murals here somewhere.

Chloe was silent as she trudged up a long set of stairs, Beca keeping in time with her pace as she glanced over at the woman every once and awhile. The ginger noticed quickly but refused to say anything, focusing more on the odd feeling that she got in her stomach each time indigo eyes met the side of her face.

"Do you like it here?" Beca asked, a bit timidly.

"It's not so bad," Chloe said, voice the softest it had been since the smaller girl met her. "Not the prison that my father paints it to be."

"He seems like a pretty tough guy."

"Hmm," Chloe hummed absently as they reached the top of the steps. Beca could feel her heartbeat in her throat, used to running from the cops, not up a large set of limestone stairs. The taller girl smirked softly, knowing that she should probably give the senior a second to catch her breath, but she continued to walk anyway- listening to Beca's heartbeat. "What about yours, he any different?"

"My father is a hypocrite." She ran a hand through her hair, panting as she ran over how thankful she was about her bags already being in her room. "He wants me to be some patron saint, but he's practically Judas himself."

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. "He sent you here, I'm guessing?"

Beca almost ran into Chloe as she stopped quickly again. They were in a long and closed off hallway, breath close to showing in the vicious cold. There were no heaters, not in the corridors. For once, Beca couldn't wait to curl up in a foreign bed. She stopped herself, the taller woman flashing a smile.

"Well, it was here or jail." The girl admitted sheepishly.

"I have no room to judge," Chloe admitted, digging into her pocket as she pulled out a clad iron key. It was weighted against her palm, cold. Beca lifted an eyebrow slightly but didn't expect any type of reiteration on the subject. She wasn't going to get any.

Chloe shoved her shoulder into the door, a long creak pushing through the air as a much-appreciated warmth pressed against both girls. This area was bigger than Emily's: The beds larger but the set up almost the same. Instead of the window, there were two, carved from deep wood that leads out to a stone balcony. Flimsy curtains were blocking out the sun.

"Hey, Red." An accented voice drew Beca's attention, her lips parting in amusement as she got a good look at her new roommate. She was tall, her eyes kind and soft against fair skin. The girl's blonde hair was lazily tied in a bun, her own books spread out around her. She didn't' bother pulling herself from the bed. "You brought fresh meat?"

The girl let out a small groan as she clenched her eyes shut, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "Amy this is Beca, Beca this is Amy."

"Nice to meet you Shawshank." Amy beamed her grey eyes nothing but happy.

"Shawshank?" The shorter girl lifted her eyebrows as Chloe just shrugged her shoulders, not completely sure herself in the woman's words. "Okay…"

"You'll get along great," Chloe narrowed her eyes as she shoved her hands in her pockets, her jaw clenched against the draft that pushed close to her back when she took a step back towards the corridor. She had been "on" enough today. Her head was buzzing as she lifted her chin "I'll find you if you need me."

The ball rested easily in Aubrey's fingers, her back pressed heavily against a perfectly made bed. Her military upbringing in a house filled with only boys kept the corners neat and the girl meticulous.

 **The blonde threw** the object up in the air once more, her friend quick to grasp the item before it could reach her friend once more. The tennis ball was light in her palm, warm. She smirked down at Aubrey, cocking her head to the side.

"You look tired," Aubrey grumbled as she rolled over on her stomach. "Were your little recruits that exhausting?"

The red-head smirked, flopping down on her own mattress as she kept the ball in her grasp, rolling it between her index finger and thumb. Her free hand rested on her stomach as her breathing raised it up and down. She didn't' answer her friend at first. "Emily seems nice."

"Don't get too close to her." Aubrey was quick to say, propping herself up on her elbow as the younger girl turned her head towards her friend. "She's not here as a friend."

Chloe let out a long sigh, knowing that she was right. Her fingers closed slightly around the tennis ball, feeling it concave lightly against her touch. She wasn't going to crush it- instead, she waited until the rubber bounced back before she contracted once more. She was lost in thought, biting the edge of her lip as she felt Aubrey's stare burn into the side of her face.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you Chlo?" The words were quiet, each girl not wanting to hear the answer to a looming question.

"No," The ginger finally whispered, "We don't have much room to deviate from the plan, now do we?"

"I suppose not," Aubrey spoke carefully. "What about the other girl?"

She tightened her grasp on her cotton shirt, averting her eyes to stare back at the intercut dark lining of the ceiling. "What about her?"

 **[A/N: Hmm, I wonder why Chlo can't get close to either of the girls?]**


	5. Chapter 5

**The girl's hand** pressed evenly against Beca's stomach, her fingers hot against cold skin as the pair's breath mingled. The smaller brunette could barely catch hers, eyes tempted to see spots as she got the wind knocked out of her. The wall pressed flush against her back was chilling and too abrasive for her own good.

Chloe had seemingly emerged from nowhere, pressing every inch of herself close to Beca. The hallway was supposed to be empty, that's what Beca needed at the moment- a few seconds to collect her thoughts before joining Amy in the dining hall for supper. Not a spontaneous assault from a girl she barely knew.

The redhead had a metallic scent to her, one that countered her soft appearance and deep steely eyes. She was out of uniform- both girls were, resigning to the fact that they only had to dawn those god awful blue shirts during lessons. Instead, she was in a pair of grey wash jeans that hugged her sides and a pitch t-shirt that cut way too low.

It was a good chance for Beca to get a detailed look at the ink that wrapped itself easily against her forearm. It had been covered before- but now she could make out the intricate design of a black serpent reaching against her skin. It's snapping jaws were hidden by the hem of her sleeve, but Beca could only imagine.

"Chlo-"The smaller girl barely got a word out before her speech was muffled by a warm hand against her lips. Chloe's eyes were widened in desperation as she lifted her brow, signaling for complete silence while the two pressed closer to each other in an edge by a set of lockers. They were undetectable.

"Shut the fuck up, Mitchell." Chloe hissed, breath hot against Beca's collarbone as she nodded dumbly, trying her hardest not to wince against the woman's knee close to the inside of her thigh- that long wound stinging blindly.

There were echoed footfalls a few feet away, Chloe flashing disdain in her features as she glanced down, not removing her hand from Beca's lips. The brunette fought the urge to nip at her fingers but eventually settled to focusing on exactly why she had been ambushed.

"Chloe seems to have taken a liking to her." Warren's voice cleared up most of the confusion. "Jessica is keeping an eye on the girl."

"Jessica, really?" another sharp edge made some color drain from her captor's features. "Was that our daughters call, or yours?"

Warren didn't' seem so terrifying compared to the silky nature of this woman, her heels the loudest as it bounced away from the walls. Beca wanted nothing more than to get a good look at Chloe's mom, but she restrained herself- not that she would be able to fight off the one who had her pinned down anyway.

"Mine." Her father spoke up for her. "Chloe has a good handle on her girls, I don't doubt her and neither should you."

"The legacy is different." The woman spoke, Chloe rolling her eyes as a natural reaction. "Emily is charming, and I need Chloe to keep a keen eye on her. Not Jess."

"Very well." Warren relented, the two falling into an odd silence as their footfalls continued to trail away from the two girls shoved in the little nook. Chloe listened carefully, moving her hand gently away as Beca glared, swatting it down away from her as the worried expression on Chloe's face soon shifted to one of amusement.

The ginger hadn't even realized that her first instinct was to shove Beca away from the hurricane that was rolling past her. Usually, she just pulled herself from the path, but this time she noticed the smaller woman taking her time towards the cafeteria.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you psycho?" Beca shoved her hand into Chloe's shoulder, the girl raising her own in surrender as she backed away, letting the sunlight from the quad bounce off her features. It made her look like a god.

"I've been called worse." She shrugged innocently. "Besides, I was doing you a favor."

"Were you?" The brunette scoffed "Because I'm pretty sure I could handle a conversation with the Dean."

"No, you really couldn't have." Chloe averted her gaze as she scratched the back of her neck, the fabric of her shirt stretching over her arm as Beca got a good glance at the dripping fangs the snake tattoo had to offer. "You're bleeding, Beca."

"What?" Her voice was still hostile, but this time it was leaking with worry. She glanced down at her jeans, the light color seeped through as syrupy liquid wicked into the fabric. She hadn't realized that the sharp pain was the wound re-establishing itself. "Shit."

"What happened?" Chloe asked innocently, eyes flicking back up to the shorter girls.

"Stupid decisions," Beca spat the words at the girl before turning on her heel to head back towards her dorm. She wasn't too hungry anymore, her brain still buzzing with the forceful touch of the Dean's daughter. A forbidden danger that she wasn't allowed to touch- her stomach hot with anger and worry.

"Can I help?" Beca fought the urge to roll her eyes as the strawberry blonde caught up with her, shoving her hands in her pockets. Beca just grunted. This tour guide was rubbing her the wrong way.

"I think you've helped enough."

"Right," She lifted her chin, stormy gaze moving to the long set of marble stairs that stood between both girls and their respective rooms. No one else was around, the two of them in a labored silence as Beca searched for an alternative- part of her knew that this archaic school wouldn't have a lift. "How do you expect to get up those, then?"

"Shut up and come here," Beca grumbled, trying to ignore the shit-eating grin that graced Chloe's face. She wrapped one of her arms around the smaller woman's waist, not hugging her close, but supporting her as Beca grasped onto the fabric of the back of her shirt.

"You're heavier than you look."

"Thank you, I think," Beca grumbled as they slowly worked their way up the stairs, the tight jeans were pressing hard against the scar that would surely be there for the rest of her life. "Chloe… what was your father talking about?"

"Hmm?" the girl bit her lip, pulling Beca to the next step as hair fell into her gaze. She was trying to focus, purposely tuning out the girl to her side as they reached the top of the long staircase, the blood dripping down Beca's leg had almost doubled in size.

"Your father, he was talking about Emily. Some legacy?"

"Oh," Chloe knit her eyebrow together, steeling her stance. "Well, I have to give Emily the five-star treatment here. She's a Junk. A legacy because her ancestors have been attending this place forever."

"Just like the Beale's?"

"Just like the Beale's."


	6. Chapter 6

**The silky copper** liquid seemed to press against Chloe's senses, her eyes watering as the rough scent moved past her lungs with each breath. The older girl had averted her gaze as she leaned heavily into the desk chair that leaned thickly into the air behind her.

Her feet were propped on the desk itself, creaking as she leaned heavily into the plush back. She refused to stare Beca's way as the girl stripped off her tight-fitting jeans, grunting and groaning against the pain as she pulled them away. The wound had gotten worse, never infected, but painful nonetheless.

"Sweetie, you might want to head to the infirmary," Chloe said innocently, not taking much time to give the brooding woman her attention. She grasped a stress ball that Amy must have dragged in here, her touch soft as she tossed it from one palm to the other.

"I'm fine." Beca winched, pulling out the small bit of gauze that her father had actually suggested she packed. Part of her furious that her dad was right in the first place. He always thought ahead, even if it edged down to sending his only daughter off to an odd boarding school in the middle of nowhere.

"You sure sound fine." _You smell fine too_. The redhead thought apprehensively. The scent of blood never got to her, it wasn't enticing, but it was one of the more noticeable scents that she had learned to adapt with over the years.

It wasn't always like this, not in the beginning.

She got a ruffed sigh in return and decided to drop the subject. Chloe didn't exactly understand why she was sticking around anyway, her own annoyance starting to get to her. Her mouth dry as she felt the edges of her lips turn up at the corners. It was an act of rebellion, being so close to the alt-girl while Aubrey steamed in the room next to her.

"What the deal with this place anyway?" Beca asked, lowering her teeth to the gauze as she bit into the surface, a rough rip moving through the air as she taped the edge down, putting pressure near the wound but not directly on it.

Chloe snuck a glance at the girl pulled a pair of grey sweatpants over her legs, tying the strings softly as they hugged her waist. She looked miffed but alive, her hair messy as it fell into midnight eyes.

She thought she saw a hint of context in that stare, but again, the ginger let it go as the four legs of the chair hit the floor once more, creaking under her weight. She ran a hand through fiery locks. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know…" She shrugged, "I've only been here for a day and a half and I already know that whatever this place is, it's not normal."

"I grew up here." Chloe lifted her chin softly, rolling the Styrofoam ball against her palms. They had handed them out earlier in the year during finals week- like squeezing a ball would relieve every single problem that they shoveled onto the teens. "There are always the legends that go along with old buildings like this, but it's not as bad as it looks."

"What kind of legends?" Beca asked curiously.

"The normal kind." The ginger tried to cut against the edge of the subject.

"Well, Atum means snake." The girl said, shifting her position on the bed as she lifted herself all the way up to the wall where the twin bed was resting. She crossed her legs in front of her, resting her hands on her knees as she continued to stare towards the only other person in the room. The girl looked jarred. "Well, technically I guess."

"Right," Chloe pursed her lips, staring into midnight eyes. "I suppose."

"He was an Egyptian deity, right? He can control snakes."

"Yeah, that and bulls, Mongoose, even apes. So why did you pick snakes?" The ginger lifted her eyebrow in confusion. Beca was smarter than she looked, putting up a bad girl front instead of actually applying herself seemed to be a special skill at this point.

"I just figured," She shrugged her shoulders "I've seen your tattoo- seen your blonde friends too. What is it, some type of gang?"

Chloe let out an ironic laugh, pulling herself away from the old oak chair. Her shirt rode up against her waistline, halfway tucked into her pants. She squeezed the stress ball once more- lifting her chin. "Well, if it is a gang, then how dangerous can they really be, right? This is a prep school, Beca."

"You're not denying it." The brunette clenched her jaw, quickly lifting her hands as Chloe tossed the object towards her. She caught it easily enough, staring at it with stormy eyes for a few seconds.

"Yeah, well, I'm not confirming it either."

 **The hot nicotine filled** Chloe's lungs, smoke becoming an impasse as it fought against the normal condensation that coated the air this late at night. The moon was large, pressing against the soupy midnight sky.

Chloe had underestimated the cold, but she wasn't about to fall back into the room to pull on a jacket. She wasn't about to give up like that- the lighter heavy in her hand as she leaned heavily against the stone balcony. She didn't' turn when she heard the glass door slide open.

"Your father would murder you if he knew you were smoking."

"Why do you think I'm doing it?" Chloe mumbled, taking in another long drag of the cigarette before she passed it off to Aubrey. She expected the blonde to half-heartedly stomp it out, but instead, she pushed it against her own lips, taking in a long breath.

She was in sweatpants, black as the sky. The white edges of her t-shirt pushed up to her elbows. The edges of the ink burned in with precision was still strong and unforgiving. It had hurt the two of them greatly- the branding that could have been just as easy with an ink tattoo gun, but Warren didn't' work like that.

Chloe remembers distinctly when Aubrey was subjected to the pain, she had put on a brave front until the hot iron met soft skin. She had clenched her jaw and held back tears, but the moment the two of them reached the dorm room… that's when the girl lost it. Collapsing to her hands and knees like her own too feet couldn't support her. She sobbed, sobbed for close to two hours before finally pulling away from Chloe and pulling herself together.

"The girl," Chloe stated, not turning to stare at her fire inclined friend, "She's smarter than she looks."

"Legacy?"

"Beca."

A deep sigh moved past Aubrey's lips, Chloe's eyes dark as the met Aubrey's. The blonde was trying her hardest to keep her thoughts to herself, knowing that she had a place in this system. Warren had trusted her to keep his daughter safe. But even Chloe's right-hand man couldn't break through the stubbornness at moments.

"What is the point of living forever if I can't have any source of joy?" The ginger mumbled, voice hard. "It's not against the rules to become infatuated with… with a human."

"No," Aubrey shook her head. "No, it's not, but it is to abandon the most important girl at this school. We can't forget our place here, not with your mother running around, teeth bared."

"I won't abandon Emily," Chloe said, running a hand through her hair as she watched Aubrey finally got rid of the remaining bit of cigarette. The rest of the ash flickering out to an odd edge. The shorter girl stared at it for a few minutes, parting her lips before speaking again. "It's been two days- Aubs. I promise you my focus won't waver."

"Good," She smiled, happy to break through a thin edge of the wall that Chloe had built around her. She pressed her elbow against her friend's side playfully. "I would hate to see you growing soft."


	7. Chapter 7

**[A/N: Sorry, it's been awhile I'm not fully feeling this story because there is so much dialogue, but I hope you guys don't mind. Anyway- please leave reviews!]**

 **The chair groaned** under Chloe's weight, her fingers tracing the crystal glass that was filled with nothing more but a buttery alcohol. It was amber against the morning sun, the flute fragile just like her father's massive ego. Though, she wasn't one to object to breakfast outside of the school's massive stone walls.

She pressed her metal edged fork into the soft middle of the waffles that she had ordered. It cut through them easily enough, it's fluffy exterior crumbling under the added weight- syrup bubbling over the sides as the sweet scent filled her lungs.

"Is this okay for you?" Warren asked, his words muffled as he stared down at the eggs in front of him, dragging a bereted edge of the knife that sliced easily through the yolk- it's own contents spilling over a porcelain plate.

"It's perfect," Chloe cocked her head to the side, scratching the back of her neck as she lifted her gaze to her fathers. "What's the occasion?"

"There needs to be an occasion to take you out to breakfast?"

"Mm," She hummed, raising the glass to her lips as she downed at least half of the champagne that she despised the taste of in the first place. The bubbles burned and prodded at her throat, but she ignored them. "I heard you and mom talking the other day. You two doubt me?"

He cleared his throat, letting his fork fall softly on the edge of the plate, running his fingers against the edge of the knit napkin. His eyes were such a deep silver, a silver that was jarring, but kind in a way. The man had his lenient moments, but never any that would show during school hours.

"No, Chlo." He shook his head "You haven't failed us for years, but darling, you must understand, Beca Mitchell is a distraction."

"Beca Mitchell is onto us." Chloe pointed the end of her fork towards her father accusingly. "She's smart, dad. Smarter than people give her credit for, you know?"

He let out a thick sigh, drawing his own mug of coffee to his lips. It burned his tongue, the molten liquid hot and unforgiving. He blinked the pain away continuing to stare at his daughter with nothing more than amusement.

"Your mother… she won't be very amused with your sudden infatuation. I was just doing a favor for her father, Chloe. She's not bloodline."

"Neither was Aubrey." The ginger cringed away from her food, not feeling so hungry anymore, quickly remembering how much pain she had put her friend through. Even if it wasn't intentional.

"Aubrey Posen is a natural born leader." He spoke smoothly "Beca Mitchell is an alternative girl with ear monstrosities and tattoos."

Chloe fought off the urge to scoff. She technically had tattoos too- although, her father would chalk them up to an ancient prophecy and the fact that it was a mark of pride and not one of drunken mess. She subconsciously ran her fingers over the edge of her shirt but didn't catch her father's attention with the slight movement.

"Listen," Chloe adjusted her position in her seat "I promise I will keep a better eye on the legacy. Just… just let me keep an eye on Beca too. The last thing we need is some headstrong music major running things for us. It's an insurance plan."

"An insurance plan?" He sounded out the words carefully.

She cocked her head to the side, lifting her eyebrow at her father. Her mother wouldn't e so easy to convince. She was a traditionalist- someone who cared only about the old texts and rules that her whole entire family had to keep up.

"She won't find out about us," She smiled simply "And neither will Emily."

 **The locker slammed** loudly against Beca's ears, her stormy eyes flashing towards whoever had pushed it closed. It had garnered a couple of stares from across the small hallway- but once they caught a glimpse of Chloe Beale they averted their gazes.

Emily Junk was shifting uncomfortably behind the ginger, her hands tucked around a textbook as she gave a sheepish smile towards a few onlooking students, getting a knowing look back. The hallway returning to its normal buzz as Beca parted her lips slightly as she turned a bit towards the girl who looped her fingers around the knot she had tied around her neck.

"That's a bit aggressive, isn't it?" She said teasingly, clenching her jaw as she nodded softly at Emily, catching the deep caramel gaze. "Hi, Emily."

"Hi, Beca." She chirped, shoving her hands into her pockets. It was clear that the girl had been forcefully dragged along on this adventure- whatever this adventure was. Either way, she had a fake smile plastered on her features, one that only Beca seemed to catch onto. Chloe cleared her throat, drawing attention back to her.

"Something you need, Kaa?" She cocked an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk on her lips.

"Beale, actually." The redhead snipped.

"Oh, I know." Beca nodded with exaggeration. Of course, she knew, the words above the auditorium were in a deep gold lettering; a lettering that showed who had donated funds towards the school. The only other one she caught a glance of was the Junk wing- something Emily's family had undoubtedly donated themselves. Beca just didn't know why the prestigious alum of this boarding school gave her the time of day.

"Then why-"Chloe started to speak before Emily cut her off.

"The Jungle Book," Emily spoke hastily, "Rudyard Kipling wrote the character of Kaa as an Indian python, but he really was parallel to the snake from the Garden of Eden."

"Oh," Beca said bemusedly "You mean the one that ushered in all of the sins of the world?"

"Technically, the woman who sunk her teeth into that Apple changed the world," Chloe said with a bit of growl in her voice. It was seductive and velvety. "Not the one who offered it to her."

"Troche." The squinted her eyes, running the pads of her fingers over the chilled metal locker edge. Her mouth was dry, tired from the long day of classes. Everyone had such high standards here- and for some unknown reason, the brunette felt immense pressure to actually try her best at this place. Not only because her father pulled some strings, but because she wanted to do better for herself, though, she would never admit it. "What's up, Chloe?" She cut her losses.

"You two are fairly new here," She started out, forgetting the heavy ridge in the air. "That's why you're coming to the Kappa Theta party."

"I thought there weren't any frats here?" Emily asked, hugging her textbooks closer to her chest.

"Oh, there aren't, but this town is tiny and we're not the only college. So we're going to blow off a little steam."

Beca drew in a large breath, pressing her back against the locker. It was cold, even through the stuffy uniform that was so easily tucked into her jeans- the belt digging roughly into the edge of her stomach. She had grown used to it. Had learned to ignore it. "I don't know, it's a Wednesday."

"Come on!" Chloe barked out a laugh, one that was a treat for the ears. It was devoid of sarcasm for once. "I expected some resistance from Emily over here, but not the girl with a criminal record."

"Should I be offended?" Emily grumbled out.

Beca nodded thoughtfully "You should be."

"This isn't up for discussion, you two." Chloe pointed a finger at the both of them, her voice taking on a deep and possessive nature. "We're going to that party, and you're going to have fun."


End file.
